


A Misunderstanding

by UnluckyWrench



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is a little shit, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, Misunderstandings, Protectiveness, Tickling, Vaggie is a hardass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:35:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnluckyWrench/pseuds/UnluckyWrench
Summary: Vaggie still doesn't trust Alastor.
Relationships: Alastor & Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 239





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This got away from me. This was only supposed to be 3 paragraphs and ended up being a whole chapter so you'll get part 2 soon.

It’d been a year after the hotel opened and the hotel was finally getting the recognition it deserved. A combination of some smart investments and the latest cull had really opened the eyes of the community and the hotel was finally seen with cautious optimism instead of scorn. Charlie couldn’t be happier, and though they still hadn’t added more than one resident, she was as optimistic as ever.

In the past year the staff had settled into a comfortable routine, but still not everyone was content.

The front door swung open and in popped the radio demon with his usual grand flourish and a jaunty jazz tune. Alastor greeted Husk at the front desk with his trademark joviality and waved a hand to magically shut the door behind him while Husk sputtered and tried to move away from his causal embrace.

Vaggie, with her usual scowl, eyed Alastor’s antics with a scowl, her good eye fixed on him as he passed her in the entrance of the hotel. If he saw her at all, he didn’t react. He walked with purpose; too much purpose, Vaggie thought as she watched him from her usual spot on the sofa. There was a large folio under one of his arms, and with his usual brand of ghastly cheer he gave a hearty greeting to every staff member he passed.

It’d taken some time for everyone to find common ground, but now it seemed like every one of the hotel staff and the original occupant were fast friends with their new powerful partner. He and Angel Dust traded jabs and cooking tips, Nifty and Charlie enjoyed singing along to the music he would produce, and even Husk enjoyed having a quiet drink and a couple hands of cards with the guy. Vaggie was the only one not blinded by his obvious ruse.

Charlie practically begged Vaggie to try and get along with Alastor, and for the sake of her girlfriend and the hotel Vaggie obliged. Through gritted teeth, she was prepared to stay where she was and read her book in peace…but then she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. 

A dark shape oozed along the floor in the direction Alastor had gone. The shape, Alastor’s shadow, was horned and its glowing eyes shined with a blue fire. It stopped, one of the eyes winking at her before it sped off in search of its master.

That cinched it, and with an eye twitch and a growl, she slinked off down the hall in search of the crimson shitlord.

Slipping silently down the corridors, she followed the shadow to the ornately carved door of Alastor’s office. The shadow stopped and she ducked behind a potted plant to hide. The shadow rose from the floor, materializing and turning to Vaggie. It’s smile widened and it gave her an enthusiastic wave before slipping under the door.

She went rigid with anger and huffed out a growl before marching to the office door.

“Open up, Alastor!” Vaggie demanded, pounding with one heavy fist. The door opened and there was Alastor wearing the amiable grin of someone expecting company.

“Vaggie, fancy meeting you here,” Alastor crooned, the sound making Vaggie materialize a spear. “A pleasure as always. What can I do for you, sweetheart?”

Vaggie angled the spear at Alastor’s neck and forced her way inside, Alastor unbothered and gracefully stepping backwards as she advanced like a dance partner. The sight of her grimace made the smug stag’s grin wider and he angled his chin up to give her better access. The sound of the door closing on its own made Vaggie flinch, but she kept her weapon ready.

“Where is it?” Vaggie demanded.

“Where’s what, my dear?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, asshole. The file, the big one. What’s in it?”

Alastor’s eyes glowed red a moment and he adjusted his monocle, filling the room with the sound of radio static. “Heh, I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, sweetheart.”

“Why not?”

One red-clawed finger elegantly moved the spear to the side so that he could bend down to her height. He dared to violate her personal space and whispered conspiratorially “It’s a surprise.”

Defiantly, she gripped the spear in front of her; her body tensed for battle. “More like an ambush. What are you up to?”

Alastor rolled his eyes and chuckled, “Dear Vaggie, why do you always think I’m up to no-good?”

“I know your story and I know your game!”

Alastor’s toothy grin slipped to a smirk. “And what game would that be?”

Vaggie snarled. This asshole had been vexing her since he appeared on their doorstep. She actually had no idea what his plan was, had no idea how he would strike out against the people she cared about, but she knew it was coming. It always did.

“Ok, I don’t actually know what your plan is,” she admitted, making Alastor snicker. “But what I do know is you’re here to hurt people.”

Alastor cocked an eyebrow and his smile fell slightly. “I see. So, you think my ultimate goal here is…what exactly?” He waved his hand in a motion to get her to finish the sentence.

Vaggie’s eye never left him and she gripped her spear so tight it threatened to snap. She never noticed the shadows closing in from the corners of the room, or that her own shadow was gone, replaced by the glowing eyed specter of the Radio Demon’s.

She spoke coldly and deliberately, “They let their guard down and you waltz in and destroy everything. I don’t know what you did to trick them into liking you, but I will _never_ let you destroy the people I love.”

Alastor’s smile disappeared completely and it was the most terrifying thing that Vaggie had seen since she entered hell. The sound of dead airwaves and the smell of ozone filled the room as Alastor gaped at her.

She willed herself not to tremble, to not show weakness. This was the monster that had cozied himself up to her friends, her lover. This thing was the enemy and if they wouldn’t deal with it, she would. She would slay the beast this dragon if she had to.

“Do you want to know what I did to get them to trust me?” Alastor asked flatly. His voice was tinny and far away.

Vaggie cocked an eyebrow in response, daring him to continue.

“There was no magic, no power, no subterfuge,” Alastor began, narrowing his eyes at the young demon before him. “I simply listened to them. We found common ground and moved on from there. I tried very hard to gain their trust because I needed to be able to trust you. All of you.”

“Trust us? For what?”

He stood straight and shook his head. He was done talking and began to clean his monocle on his lapel. He snapped his fingers and the large folio from earlier materialized in front of Vaggie.

“You have your answer. Now, if you don’t mind, I have some work to do.” He announced, turning his back on her and moving to the other side of the room.

Vaggie took one step toward him and was instantly forced back through the now open office door. She fell back onto her ass in the hallway, her spear embedded in the wall behind her from the force of the psychic blast. She looked up and saw Alastor’s shadow in the doorway, holding the file and scowling at her. It frowned and tossed her the thick file before slamming the door behind it.

Vaggie stood, grabbing her spear and the file before sprinting for her and Charlie’s room. Behind her a muffled, sad jazz rift wafted through the corridor.

Now alone, locked in her shared bedroom, she opened the folio and got her answer. It was a stack of brochures for various vacation locations. There was a two-week luxury cruise on the Stygian sea, an exclusive ski chalet in the frozen Ninth Circle, and a secluded “glamping” resort in Limbo among others.

Digging deeper, and her curiosity getting worse, she pulled out a battered notepad from the bag. There, in Alastor’s careful penmanship, was her explanation.

_“I must say this is the best idea I’ve ever had! A vacation to celebrate, not only the hotel but our coming together as a family. From our conversations, Angel Dust’s suggestions for a ‘fun time’ weren’t as inappropriate as I thought they would be. He only made ONE dirty joke. Perhaps his rehabilitation is taking after all._

_Husk has asked for alcohol, naturally, and Nifty would like a beach to relax on. Poor darling deserves to rest her tiny feet._

_I, myself, would like to do some hunting. It’s been too long since I felt a good weapon in my hands as I stalk my prey. Perhaps this can be the thing Vaggie and I finally have in common. She’s always so tense, but I’d wager a good hunt would help soothe our resident warrior. It always did wonders for me.”_

Vaggie blinked. She blinked again. He was planning a vacation for everyone. A _family_ vacation.

She curled her knees up to her forehead and rubber her temples. “Fuck.”


	2. Chapter 2

Vaggie walked the long, winding halls of the hotel clutching the folio to her chest. She’d poured over the papers for a week now, carefully considering the brochures but also the meticulous notes the Radio Demon made. It seemed he’d been planning this for a long time and was trying to tailor the perfect experience for everyone.

At first Vaggie thought there had to be some ulterior motive, that the Radio Demon had lied to her and was hiding his true motives. As the days wore on, those thoughts began to die when she saw the aftermath of their little blowup.

Alastor was much more reserved. His flash and flourish now seemed forced and unnatural. Odder still was he was back to his “five-foot rule” days; meaning he needed a personal bubble of at least five feet from everyone. There were no more casual touches or impromptu dances, and frankly it was boring. Everyone was a little on edge now and it was her fault.

Worst of all, since they never spoke of what happened, Charlie had taken his emotional lapse personal. She began to doubt her effectiveness in the redemption business. Vaggie could handle many things but seeing Charlie sad was not one of them. She knew she had to apologize.

She decided on a day when the hotel would be mostly deserted. Nifty was away at her stich-and-bitch knitting circle, Angel took Charlie to meet his sister Molly about a possible job at the hotel, and Husk got wind of a floating poker game downtown. The only two in the hotel were Vaggie and Alastor, who’d secluded himself away in his office.

Now, as she stood outside his office door clutching the folio, she felt a wave of dread. She was never good at apologies, but this was her mess to clean up. Steeling herself, Vaggie knocked.

A few seconds later the door opened and there stood an unimpressed Alastor. He looked down at Vaggie and quickly donned a perfectly crafted smile. She felt a twinge of regret when she realized this smile was a formality, the same smile he reserved for potential investors. She gripped the folio tighter.

“Well isn’t this a surprise. Good afternoon, Vaggie. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Alastor’s words were animated as ever, but his delivery was stunted. As he spoke, his shadow materialized behind him and glared at Vaggie arms crossed.

Vaggie took a deep breath and held the folio between them. “I uh, I read your notes.”

“Did you, now? Well thank you for returning my files,” Alastor plucked the folio gently from Vaggie’s hands and turned on his heel. The office door began to close behind him, but Vaggie forced it open again.

“Alastor, I came to apologize.”

Alastor’s smile faltered a bit while his shadow’s face split into a glowing grin.

“I haven’t given you a chance,” Vaggie continued, standing contrite in the doorway, “You’ve done nothing but try to help us, but I haven’t been fair to you. I was wrong and I hope we can – hope we can move forward. I’m sorry.”

The words obviously didn’t come easy to her, Alastor noticed. Words were cheap in Hell; it was all about actions or personality, and right now Vaggie was as honest as could be. Her bluster and anger were gone, replaced with this tense meekness that betrayed everything he knew her to be. It wasn’t a good look for her, but it awakened something in him.

His smile widened into something genuine, “Hm. Well that’s very sweet of you, but I’m not sure I’m fully prepared to accept your apology. Not yet, that is.”

Vaggie’s eyes widened. “What do you want?”

“Why entertainment of course! It’s been rather dull around here lately, dreadfully formal. How about a game?”

And there it was: _A Game_. The Radio Demon’s games were legendary in their brutality. For decades his broadcasted rampages included “episodes” of games he’d played with his victims. Vaggie remembered the screams that choked off into gurgling gasps. She looked at him in fear, but behind him his shadow was looming big on the wall behind him. The shadow held two thumbs up of approval and was nodding furiously.

“If…if this is the only way to fix things, I accept.”

“Excellent!” Alastor clapped his hands once, making an ornate hourglass appear. Wiggling his eyebrows, he laid down the rules. “Now, the rules are simple. Just run! You’ll get a 30 second head start and then _I come after you.”_

Alastor tipped the hourglass and as the sands began to fall, Vaggie leap into action. Turning on her heels, Vaggie was off like a shot down the hall. Behind her she heard Alastor’s booming laugh, then the steady tapping of hoofed shoes coming after her.

She ran faster, pumping her legs as she made her way through the dark labyrinth of the hotel. The floorplan was like something out of an Escher print, with long winding corridors that often lead nowhere. Normally she knew where she was but in a blind panic, she was almost lost. She slowed a bit to try and get her bearings, but the sound of hooves behind her was gaining. No time to think, only to act.

She rounded a corner and there ahead of her was Alastor. He stood there at the end of the hall, leaning on his microphone stand as if waiting for her. She shrieked and ran back the way she came until the hallway split into two. She practically dove away when she heard Alastor singsong out to her “Oh Vaggie…I’m going to get you, Vaggie~”

She ran down the left corridor, getting halfway down the hall before the Radio Demon popped out from a doorway ahead of her. He let out a cheesy, movie monster roar while waving his arms above his head, ready to snatch her as she came by. “Pendejo!” Vaggie shouted before sprinting back up the hall to take the right corridor, a booming laugh echoed behind her.

After nearly half an hour of running in circles, always just out of reach of Alastor, Vaggie was tired. He was always just behind her, his voice echoing through the hotel taunting her. She was nearly out of breath, so she ducked into an alcove to try to breathe. Over her panicked gasping she heard the footsteps closing in fast behind her. She took off again, turned another corner, and bumped right into Alastor. She stood there with her forearms resting on his chest looking up at him with one wild, wide eye. He stood there perfectly content with his hands resting behind his back and that toothy grin perfectly in place.

Her stomach sank. Vaggie took several steps backwards, intending to run away again from the demon only to bump into something solid. Alastor’s shadow materialized behind her, its arms whipping out like tentacles, and gripped her around the waist in a firm bear hug. It trapped her arms to her sides, effortlessly lifting her feet off the ground. It rested its spectral chin on her shoulder and grinned as the Radio Demon advanced.

“Oh, that was fun,” Alastor crooned, his smile wide and merry as he crept closer. “You played well, my dear, but it looks like I won,”

Standing a few feet away, he observed her. His wide eyes glowed as the took in her every move, delighted in how she struggled in the arms of his shadow. Her fighting spirit made her the perfect quarry for any hunter. He decided to let her tire herself out a bit more before he got on with his fun. True to her form, she kicked and grappled with the shadow, but her feet passed through it harmlessly.

After nonchalantly cleaning his monocle, Alastor strode up to her now. He leaned down smugly to invade her personal space, his smile gleamed in front of her face. Vaggie caught her own scared reflection in his teeth. Suddenly Alastor raised a hand and Vaggie, expecting violence, flinched away. She screwed her eyes shut and braced for a hit.

A gentle fingertip caressed the line of her jaw, stopping under her chin to tilt her head up. “Come now, darling. No need to be frightened.”

Vaggie said nothing, she simply sagged in defeat in the shadow’s arms. Alastor and his shadow exchanged confused smirks over her head.

“Oh, I see! You’re still suffering from our little misunderstanding, aren’t you? Well, don’t you worry, we’re going to get everything straightened out soon.”

Vaggie cringed at the thought of the “incident” but didn’t respond.

“Tell me, do you remember what I told you when we first met?” Asked Alastor, ghosting two claws under Vaggie’s chin.

“That…that if you wanted to hurt us, you would have done it already,” she replied, eyes still closed. Her breathing hitched, but not out of fear. One of Vaggie’s personal shames was that she was very ticklish, and the Radio Demon was toying with one of her most sensitive spots. She wanted to fight but couldn’t!

“Ah yes, very good attention to detail,” Alastor chuckled and winked at his shadow. Her reaction had _not_ gone unnoticed. He brought his other hand up to trace experimentally along Vaggie’s long neck. “However, I was referring to something else I said.”

Vaggie shivered, squirming renewed as her sensitive neck was teased. His sharp claws glided along her skin, giving her goosebumps and making her bite her bottom lip unconsciously. As Alastor tormented her his shadow held her tight, pulling her back to rest on a firm but comfortably warm chest. The serpentine arms of the shadow gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“Vaggie, please open your eyes?” Alastor asked, his voice full of something Vaggie couldn’t describe.

It took her a few seconds before she opened her eyes, and when she did, she finally saw Alastor not the dreaded Radio Demon.

He wasn’t some radio-dialed eyed monster, and he wasn’t out to rend her flesh. His smile was wide and showed his sharp teeth, yes, but he smiled with his whole face. His nose was crinkled boyishly, his cheeks dimpled in joy, and while there was loads of mischief in his eyes, it wasn’t deadly. It was the look of a big brother who’d just won a game of tag with an annoying younger sibling.

She cocked her head she observed him. Was he really sticking the tip of his tongue out at the side of his mouth? Could this be how the others saw him? If so, then of course they wouldn’t be afraid. He looked so ridiculous that she wanted to laugh. Laugh? Alastor’s words finally popped into her mind and she knew what was about to happen. 

**_Smile, my dear! You know, you’re never fully dressed without one!_ **

“Shit! Oh no!” she kicked furiously at the shadow, the edges of her mouth picking up against her will. Sensing her realization, Alastor waggled his eyebrows at her. Her mind and body were at odds over what was about to happen it seemed, but at least she was getting into the spirit of it.

“Oh yes~” Alastor crowed, laughing triumphantly before wiggling his fingers menacingly in front of her face. “You’ve been terribly underdressed for far too long! It’s practically obscene!”

“Don’t you have work to do? The hotel doesn’t run itself remember?” she snickered, hearing a muffled chuckle beside her from the shadow. She tried to glare at it to no avail.

“Hm…Nope! I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing right now other than helping my poor little Vaggie.” He cooed, booping her nose with a finger. The bastard actually cooed at her, bordering on baby talk. She was about to shoot back with a comment when Alastor’s fingers were under her chin again, hitting a particularly sensitive spot which shut her up.

Vaggie blushed all over and Alastor watched her face intently. She was straining so hard, a fighter to the end. He chuckled as her cheeks turned lovely shade of pink from his teasing.

“Well would you look at that! My dear, I do believe you’re pinker than Angel Dust!"

The teasing and gentle tickles forced that first traitorous giggle to bubble out of her mouth. Vaggie clamped her lips shut to fight the onslaught, but the damage was done.

" Ah ha! So, you do know how to laugh!"

“Plehehease…” Vaggie attempted to hide her face away in the crook of the shadow’s neck, unable to keep from tittering. The shadow simply tutted, shaking its head and held her up closer to Alastor.

She was beaten, her body tired and her mind spinning at the idea of being at the mercy of Alastor, the Radio Demon. Her movements were now mostly involuntary, as she’d accepted her fate. Alastor recognized the signs, just as he had with the others. It was time for the predator to strike.

“Well since you asked so politely, of course I’ll grant your wish!” Alastor beamed. Vaggie felt a fleeting moment of hope before it was washed away by her shriek. Alastor spider-walked his fingers on both sides of her neck with fast, light strokes.

“NO! NOHOHOHOHO!” she began, only to have her words swallowed up in huffing chuckles.

“You said ‘please’ and this is what you wanted, right?”

Vaggie’s fight was restored as she tried to kick out like a wild animal. She shook her head to dislodge his fingers, anything to the sensation. The light tickles were maddening, never allowing her to get a hold on her reactions.

The dam finally broke when one inquisitive claw dared to invade the sensitive flesh behind her ear. She crinkled her neck and shrieked as her laughter rushed out, surprising both Vaggie and Alastor. This was her true laugh, how she laughed when her guard was down: a happy girlish giggle.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the moment we’ve all been waiting for! Vaggie is finally laughing! Give her a hand, everyone! I’m certainly giving her both of miiiiiiiine~” Alastor beamed, barely containing his own cackles. A thunderous recorded round of applause from a radio studio audience rang out around them.

“No! Plehehehehahahsase! Alastor noohohohohoo!” Vaggie giggled loud and long.

“Coochie coochie coo,” Alastor cackled, his fingers are just a blur now, madly tormenting all the exposed flesh of Vaggie’s neck, chin, and ears. These areas seemed deadly enough, but he didn’t want to push too hard on their first time.

As he had with all the others, he savored the sound of her helpless laughter. Every one of them were rare vintages, and he enjoyed every unique note they made. Charlie’s laugh, for example was a bright, squeaky sound that contrasted entirely from Husk’s gruff chortle and Angel’s rasping belly laughs. Hers was the only laugh he had yet to sample and now, his collection was complete.

Vaggie’s world was focused entirely on the inhuman tickling she was receiving. Tears of laughter pricked at her eyelashes. Her neck was a very bad spot and it was being exploited expertly! Alastor was laughing right along with her, too. She knew he took delight in torturing others, but this seemed too lighthearted.

“Time for the grand finale!” Alastor announced, removing his hands and giving her a moment’s reprieve. He stood over her, hands folded elegantly in front of him.

Vaggie sagged in the shadow’s arms, breathing fresh air deep into her lungs. Residual giggles kept flowing out of her and totally ruined the death glare she was attempting to give Alastor. What coherent thoughts she could muster were about how astounding it was that the Radio Demon was being so gentle and then _revenge_.

“P-pendejo!” Vaggie shouted, out of breath.

Without warning, Alastor’s hands shout out. His left hand gripped Vaggie’s shoulder and his right hand pushed her head away, exposing the entire shoulder and neck joint on her left side. He practically vibrated with smug glee. He gave her a wink before taking a huge gulp of air into his lungs and belly. Then, Alastor smooshed his face into the exposed crook of Vaggie’s neck and let out a long, loud raspberry.

Vaggie exploded. What started as giggles became high pitched belly laughs and finally silent wheezing. She laughed so hard that her stomach began to hurt. The tears were pouring from her eyes now, streaking her face with mascara. Alastor drew out the torture, but soon enough Vaggie was free and slipping down onto her own wobbly legs.

Alastor teleported them to the living room and placed her on a sofa when it became apparent that she was unsteady. He’d thoroughly wrecked her and couldn’t be prouder. She panted, sinking into the plush upholstery and then looked up at him as he took his usual seat in the armchair near the fireplace. With a wave of his hand, a fire started in the grate.

This was definitely not what she imagined would happen today, but the mixture of her favorite comfy couch and the warm fire helped her relax. The only thing missing was a mug of tea and her favorite book. Vaggie made a mental note to wipe that smug smile off his face very soon. Maybe she’d replace it with a more desperate one.

“How long has it been since you laughed like that, my dear?” Alastor asked conversationally.

Vaggie thought about his question. She thought to her time in Hell, and then to the few faint memories she had from _before._ The silence intrigued Alastor and he cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t know. I mean I laugh, but I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”

Alastor nodded, huffing a small chuckle. He’d been correct, he thought. Not that he ever doubted himself, of course, but this hardened soul was proving to be just the person he thought she was: guarded, fiercely protective, and ambitious…she reminded him of himself.

With another wave of his hand he summoned a pot of tea for them to share and, for good measure, Vaggie’s poetry book. Vaggie blinked at him dumbly, but Alastor just shrugged his shoulders a bit before offering a cup of tea.

“Apology accepted, Vaggie,” Alastor murmured. Vaggie nodded in thanks and took the cup of tea.

The two demons spent the rest of the afternoon in companionable silence broken only by soft jazz playing from Alastor and the eventual soft snores of Vaggie, who fell asleep against the arm of the sofa.


End file.
